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| I attended a small gathering of Hunters on Sullust last evening at the home of Vida Cotmairne. It was an altogether enjoyable affair, save for the unsavory presence of one Kota Shisona. For those of you who don't know who Shisona is, allow me to fill you in.
Kota Shisona joined the Hunter's Guild a little over a year ago. I never really trusted or befriended him (then again, I never trust or befriend anyone), but the other Hunters in the Guild seemed to tolerate him at least. Of particular note was his relationship with Vida, who is among the few Guild members with whom I maintain an amicable relationship. I, and those closest to Vida, remained skeptical of his intentions in pursuing a partnership with her.
To make a long and complicated story short, Shisona was in the employ of the New Republic all along, and presented quite a different face to his superiors on Coruscant, as well as a different girl. In between there and Sullust, he abused Meranzane Gold and glitterstim among other vices. It is difficult for anyone to lead a double life for long, and so the threads of Shisona's lies came unraveled. I don't know what he hoped to accomplish by arriving (with his girl from Coruscant, who appeared to be an Askajian, in tow) at Vida's residence, but news travels fast in the Guild, and she wasn't the only one who wouldn't tolerate his presence. A Hunter whom I have met once or twice before whose name escapes me growled at him upon his entrance and let him know he wasn't welcome. He wisely left. The room contained several men larger than he was, many of whom were former Stormtroopers and thus not men to be crossed.
Shisona seems to think his dealings with the New Republic are no major trespass and are already forgotten. They are not. He seems to think he is still welcome in the Guild. He is not. Most of us only chose to trust him and tolerate him because Vida did. She no longer trusts him; we will no longer tolerate him.
It is a complicated thing, trust, and in my dealings I've found it's impossible to piece back together after it's been fractured. I don't particularly care what happens to Kota Shisona, his Askajian mistress, or his four hundred credits' worth of Holographic Wow!. May he freeze, as the Devaronians are fond of saying. | | |
| It has been nearly a year since I last logged an entry in this journal. I returned to space some time ago and have taken up the hunt for a traitor to the Empire named Kyle Katarn. The New Republic will have him well-guarded, but the Republic is weak, still in its infancy, and will not have foolproof security just yet. A gentleman named Thrawn is very interested in this Katarn, and I don't intend to let him down.
I usually always find myself with a lot of time to think. This is the natural result of sequestering oneself from other sentient beings. Lately I've been thinking about just why I seperate myself from others. Perhaps I just find no use for them. Nearly all of my dealings with other people involve business and are appropriately brief. If anyone tries to stray the conversation into less-than-relevant territory, I quickly get them back on track. I find little joy in socializing, and in the rare instances that I have free time, I almost always choose to spend it alone, occupying my time with reading or meditation. (The last time I chose to spend my time in the company of others, at Jabba the Hutt's palace, I wound up in the belly of the Sarlacc. I am not eager to repeat that.)
And yet there are others whom, it seems, can't stand one minute by themselves. An inept Rodian Hunter by the name of Greedo comes to mind (he's been dead for several years now courtesy of Han Solo, may he freeze). I met Greedo briefly while traveling with Jabba, and the poor fool could never leave the rest of us alone. Mostly he would jabber with his Rodian comrades, but when they tired of him, he would come around to his human shipmates and bother us, too. He didn't even want to interrogate Solo by himself; if one of us had given in to his whining, two might have died that day in Mos Eisley.
Greedo, however, was an extreme. Some people simply prefer company to isolation. I prefer the inverse, as I'm sure a handful of others do. This preferance for or abhorance of company is another factor of human nature that makes it difficult for us to understand one another. I have no concept of loneliness, as my social counterparts likely can't understand the need for aloneness. This is good. If we all had the same preferences...we may as well be the Kaminoan clones from whence the legend of Boba Fett comes. | | |
| I have just received a transmission from a Trandoshan Hunter by the name of Bossk. His preoccupation with Hunting Wookiees has given him the terrifically stupid idea to ambush Chewbacca's son, Lumpawarrump, during the Life Day celebrations on Kashyyyk. He believes that the young Wookiee's life might be of value to the New Republic. I respectfully declined his invitation to join him, as I will be unable to complete my repairs until the spring. (I have, however, made significant progress). Bossk is the type of being that will act friendly unless there's any sort of competition. If I decided young "Lumpy" were worth Hunting, he would shoot me in the back, no questions asked. An extremely untrustworthy character, but I suppose that's an advantage in our field.
Happy Life Day to those of you that celebrate it. | | |
| Though you may not believe it, eight days really is a "short while" in certain areas of the universe.
Now, on to my story, which will hopefully lay to rest any doubts about my past and about who I say I am. Firstly, it is important to understand and remember that Boba Fett and Jaster Mereel did not start out the same man. This is how I came to unite these two entities, and how I came to stand before you the man I am.
Everything that I have told you of Jaster Mereel is the truth; do not consider him for a moment. Boba Fett, on the other hand, was born on the planet Kamino, around ten years before the start of the Clone Wars. (Interestingly, Boba was tied closely to the events that started the Wars.) He himself was a clone of a bounty hunter/mercenary named Jango Fett. After Jango died at the Battle of Geonosis, young Boba decided that he would follow in his "father"'s footsteps and learn the ways of the Hunt. Unfortunately, being an exact copy of Jango, Boba possessed his impetuousness and attitude, and believed himself to be a better Hunter than he was. He got cocky, which afforded him a demise all too similar to Jango's. The real Boba Fett died when he was quite young, on a backwater planet that hardly anyone even knows the name of.
When Jaster Mereel found that he fit in with neither the Protectors or the stormtroopers, and decided to become a professional bounty hunter, he knew that he could no longer plod through life as the maladjusted, worthless slug he had lived as thus far. Upon discovering that the "son" of a famous Hunter just happened to have been born at about the same time that he was, and that this man was presently unaccounted for, it seemed in his best interests to assume Boba Fett's identity and finish a life that was cut short far too soon rather than perpetuate a meaningless one.
And so it was that I became Boba Fett. Unfortunately, another bounty hunter named Jodo Kast had the same idea that I had, and also assumed the guise of Boba Fett. But I killed him and extinguised his threat to my ruse.
The true Boba Fett owes me a great deal. His name and his family's legacy would have been forgotten if it weren't for me. As a matter of fact, now almost everyone believes that I am Boba Fett. Just as long as they never see me unhelmeted...I believe my pale skin and red hair would belie the truth. | | |
| It's been quite a while since I've updated. Repairs to Slave I are going well, though much slower than I'd like. As it turns out, I've had to improvise some parts given the materials I have to work with on this primitive world. It should hold together until I return to the Core (with luck); there, I'll be able to repair it properly.
Loyalty is something that is difficult to attain and simple to break. A Hunter knows this better than perhaps anyone in any other profession. On many of my bigger cases, I have been told I was the only Hunter on the job, when long-range radar evidence would point to the contrary. Boba Fett's reputation precedes him, and that should be more than enough to assure the majority of the clientele that a capture will be made (not to be egotistical), yet they refuse to fully place their confidence in me.
It works both ways, as well. Many Hunters have no qualms about accepting a job from one person, finding out that someone else is offering a bigger payoff, and returning the capture to the big spender instead of the one that hired them. I am one of the few Hunters whose loyalty is to his employer and not to his bank account. (Although sometimes I find myself in the uncommon situation of being able to accept two bounties, as with Captain Solo.)
I've learned that there's some controversy among pockets of individuals as to my true origins. I will address this issue a short time from now. Until then, farewell. | | |
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